


Now and Forever.

by TheItsyBitsyWriter



Category: Captain America - All Media Types, Stucky - Fandom
Genre: Bucky Barnes Feels, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Bucky Barnes Recovering, Bucky Goes in Cryo, M/M, Natasha Romanov Is a Good Bro, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Pre-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Sam Wilson Is a Good Bro, Songfic, Sort Of, Steve Rogers Feels, Steve Rogers Needs a Hug, Tags Are Hard, Wakanda
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-02
Updated: 2019-09-02
Packaged: 2020-10-03 23:53:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20461592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheItsyBitsyWriter/pseuds/TheItsyBitsyWriter
Summary: "Whatever it takes,Or how my heart breaks,I will be right here waiting for you."ORBucky decides to go back under cryo, to get the nastiness from HYDRA out of his brain, and Steve agrees— though his heart shatters. He struggles to give voice to his feelings, struggles to tell Bucky that he loves him, for the fear that it may be the last time he ever does.





	Now and Forever.

**Author's Note:**

> There are so many things that the creators over at Marvel took away from us. Like the discussion Steve and Bucky must have had before Bucky went back under cryo, instead we got Tonky being angsty about how he was betrayed by everyone (which is utter bullshit, btw).  
Since Marvel said, "Fuck SteveBucky rights!" I'm taking the liberty of giving Steve and Bucky the conversation(s) they deserved.  
Here we go...

Bucky takes a deep breath and exhales slowly— his lungs don't constrict and he smiles to himself. He loves New York City, truly, but he'd be lying if he said he wasn't glad to be out of the metropolis, where the air constantly smells of something stale and vehicle exhaust. Wakanda smells of nothing like that— instead, all he can smell inside the Princess's laboratory is the pristine scent of pine trees, and something fainter... like sandalwood, perhaps. When he was outside, a few hours ago, he could only smell Earthly scents, like lavenders and junipers, and just generic trees— which wasn't really a surprise, since Wakanda was situated smack in the middle of Sub-Saharan African forests.

At that moment, Bucky is all alone inside the laboratory. Shuri, the Princess of Wakanda, who was currently acting as his doctor/technical wizard, and her apprentices had left the lab around ten minutes ago, to give Bucky some privacy and clarity— in case he wanted to change his mind, because as Shuri had stated, once the process had started, it would be hazardous to cut it short. She had some new technology that HYDRA didn’t have, so Bucky knew nothing of how it worked. He was simply putting all his trust in these people, because Steve had done so.

_Steve_. The name shoots a dull stab of something strong through his heart, and Bucky wonders just what it is— is it hurt? Is it want? Is it love? Is it desire? Is it guilt? He doesn’t quite know, though he does know that it is strong, way too strong for him. And it almost makes him take up Shuri on her offer of retracting in the case of a change of heart. _Almost_. His will proves to be stronger than the emotion Steve’s name invokes in him.

After all, he’s doing this _for_ Steve. Not that Steve had asked him to— Bucky is almost certain that Steve’s against this whole idea. He vaguely recalls him and Steve being at odds about another one of Bucky’s brilliant ideas some seventy years ago. He blinks dumbly at the pod he’s supposed to go in a few minutes from now, and the faint traces of the memory dissipate.

Bucky shakes his head and focuses back on the pod. It looks very non-threatening. Nothing like the ones HYDRA had ready for him— to turn him back into the Winter Soldier the moment he began to slip back into Bucky Barnes. He smiles at that, and it’s a sad smile. He’s sad because not only is he willingly going back under cryo, the one thing that _terrified_ the life out of the Soldier, and made Bucky’s very skin crawl with fear, it made poor Bucky Barnes inside of the Soldier yell for someone named Stevie, _his Stevie_— but he’s also sad because he’d been doing_ so good_. He was in Bucharest for so long, and he was beginning to gather bits and pieces of himself again. He was beginning to turn into Bucky Barnes— a shell of a man, at best, but he was still a man… and not a cold-blooded monster.

He’d begun to build a life—as pathetic as it may have been—for himself in Bucharest— hell, he was even preparing to go look for the man on the bridge, Captain America— no, not Captain America. He was going to go look for _Steve_, the only person in the world who still thought of Bucky as human, the only person who still cared for him. And he was going to get the help that he needed, the help that Steve was convinced he _deserved_. But then Helmut Zemo had rolled in like a hurricane, and uprooted the fragile foundations of Bucky’s new reality.

‘_There’s always something that ruins our happiness, Buck_,’ the voice echoes around the catacombs of his mind and Bucky jolts. He knows the voice, its Steve’s. But he doesn’t remember having been on the receiving end of that sentence. A memory dances in front of him, just out of reach— Steve Rogers, a thin, sickly version of him, is sitting in front of him on a bed, the sheets dirty and old. Steve’s got his left arm wrapped around his knobby knees that he’s got pulled up to his chest, and the left arm is extended forward, his hand holding someone else’s, the fingers intertwined. He looks heartbroken; the expression he’s wearing is utterly disarming. And just like that, the memory’s gone, and Bucky’s left deeply unsettled and frowning. Grey eyes travel downward, until he’s staring blankly at the space where his left arm’s supposed to be, and he realizes something… Steve was holding on to _his_ hand.

Outside of the laboratory, leaning against the wall is Steve Rogers. He’s got his back pressed against the wall, and one knee bent— the foot placed on the wall behind him. One of his hands is curled into a fist in the pocket of his jacket, and the other’s holding a brand new cell phone to his ear. On the other end of the call, is Natasha Romanoff who says she’d about to board a plane headed to Arendal, Norway, but Steve knows her better; Natasha would never willingly give up her real location, unless it was absolutely needed. And if Natasha was needed, then she would find a way to reach Steve, and not the other way around.

“—and you’re sure you’re going to be okay?” Natasha asks over the phone, behind her solemn tone, Steve detects a hint of concerns and he smiles a little.

Steve nods, knowing quite well she can’t see him, “I guess. I mean, I know he’s going to be safe here than anywhere else. And I can’t stay here in Wakanda— Prince T’Challa’s been welcoming enough, but I don’t want to overstay my welcome here.”

“Because you fear they may drive Barnes out if you have them climbing up the walls?”

Steve chuckles, “You get me too well, Nat.” and Steve can clearly picture her smirking in satisfaction on the other end.

“I just need to know you’ll be alright. Fury’s gonna check in with you in a while.”

“Did you tell him what happened?”

“Down to the last detail, ‘cause I know if I didn’t, you wouldn’t either. And then he’d have both our asses, you know how much he hates being left out.”

A moment of silence and then Steve asks, a little unsure, “And who did he think was in the right?”

“He yelled at me for even considering taking Stark’s side.”

“I should’ve done the same.”

“I helped you out in the end, didn’t I? Shut up.”

Steve smiles widely, “That you did, and I don’t believe I ever said so, but thank you, Natasha. I don’t know what I’d do without you and Sam by my side through this.”

“Damn, Rogers, are you getting soft on me?”

Steve laughs at that. “No, I suppose you wouldn’t like that.”

“Damn right.” There’s a beat of silence and then Natasha speaks again, but this time, her voice is cautious; as if she’s talking to a ticking time bomb, “So what are you going to do?”

“Honestly? I don’t know. I’m going to stay here in Wakanda for a little while— just until this mess dies down and I can go somewhere else. As for the rest of them, I’ve already infiltrated the prison— thanks to you, and I got Sam and Wanda out. Clint and Scott said they don’t want out, they just want to be with their families, so they’ve already struck a bargain with the prosecutors. They both plead guilty, and are on house arrest now. As for me, I’m thinking Austria, maybe… Spain sounds good right about now, and—”

“I meant, what are you doing to do about Barnes?”

“What do you mean?”

“Steve. Come on, aren’t we way past playing games now? I know how you feel about him, you know how you feel about him, I’m pretty sure Sam and Wanda know too… I feel like, at this point, Barnes is the only person who _doesn’t_ know— or doesn’t _remember_.”

If this were anyone else, Steve would either have said something very rude to them or punched them in the mouth. But this is Natasha, his friend, his ally, someone he can trust, someone he _does_ trust. So Steve simply sighs loudly, “What do you want to me to do, Nat? He’s made a decision all by himself; he’s going back under cryo. He knows how dangerous he is with his trigger words still activated. Princess Shuri’s going to get that nastiness out of his head, Nat, and only then is it safe for him to be out and about in the world— safe for him, and for everyone else. And this isn’t something I’m saying, this is what Bucky says, Nat. Tell me, would a cold blooded murderer do this to himself for the sake of others?”

“No, he wouldn’t.” Natasha says immediately. She knows how much Steve is suffering because Barnes is suffering. And she knows that Barnes is not the same guy who she met in the Red Room, he’s not the same guy who shot clean through her in Odessa. She figures Barnes is now the same guy who took Steve along on his “dates” and wouldn’t leave Steve’s side, for anything, for two whole months after Sarah Rogers’s passing. “So Barnes is choosing to go back under until he’s… _Bucky_ again, is that right?”

“Yeah.”

“And how do you feel about that?”

“How do I feel about that? I feel lost, Natasha. I feel like I _just_ got my best friend back and he’s being ripped away from me again. I feel like I’m on that train again, Nat, and I’m trying so desperately to hold his hand, to grip him tight, to not let him fall, to not allow him to be taken from me again, but he’s still falling. I can hear his screams in my head, and I can’t stop this from happening, Nat, because this is his choice.”

Natasha takes a deep breath on the other end. She didn’t expect Steve to erupt like a volcano, because he’s usually so quiet. He doesn’t let anything slip past his armor, his defenses are always sky-high, and the walls he’d built around himself are always unrelenting. But now, Steve’s opening up like a book, and he’s vulnerable, and Nat knows how to stitch up wounds, and kill with a single jab to the neck, but she doesn’t know how to handle a hundred-something supersoldier’s emotions. So she exhales slowly and decides to just roll with it, “And have you told him any of this?”

Steve barks out a laugh at this, and it’s completely hollow— it makes Natasha wince. “Have I told—? No, Natasha, I’ve not told him. Why would I tell him? He doesn’t remember anything, Nat. He doesn’t remember what it was like back then; he doesn’t remember what we were, he remembers nothing. He’s not even in the right headspace, Nat… it wouldn’t be fair to him. He’s going through so much already, he doesn’t need me worrying him about what we were and how much I love him.”

Nat’s stunned into silence for a minute, mostly because of the very last thing Steve said. He loves Barnes… not, _loved_. He still loves Barnes, even after seven decades of separation and trauma. She clears her throat, “Steve, don’t you think that should be his choice? Put yourself in his shoes, wouldn’t you want him to tell you that he loves you? That there’s someone in the world, who is waiting for him to return? Who is waiting with open arms, a warm smile, and love?”

Steve swallows thickly and finds it difficult to do so. “Nat, I love him so much. I can’t lose him again.”

“You’re not losing him, Steve, he’s not going anywhere. You’re going to be there when he goes under, and you’re going to be there when he comes back up. So go to him, and tell him. That’s the least you can do for him right now.”

“Nat…” Steve doesn’t know what to say. So he settles for what he feels so deeply in his soul, “I know you don’t like it when we go soft on you, but I have to tell you; you’re one of the greatest things to have ever happened to me. Thank you, really, for everything.”

Nat smiles and says, “Oh, you’re killing me, Smalls.”

“Nat… I don’t get that reference.”

At this, Natasha laughs loudly, and Steve thinks to himself that this is the first time he’s ever heard her laugh this hard. It takes her almost thirty seconds to recover, and when she speaks again, her voice is light and hearty, “That was a good one. Anyway, you go get your man, Rogers. Tell him I said good luck and that I’m sorry for tasing him… multiple times.”

“Alright, Nat… thank you. You take care of yourself, yeah?”

“’Course. I’ll see you soon, Rogers. Let me know how it goes.”

“Alright.”

“_Later_.” There’s a _click_, and the line goes dead. Steve pulls the phone down from his ear and glances at the time, which reads 6:50 p.m., and Steve sighs. Just ten more minutes until Bucky goes back under cryo indefinitely. Steve stuffs the phone into the pocket of his jeans and pushes off the wall. He glances down the empty corridor and vaguely wonders where Shuri ran off to, but he doesn’t dwell on it. Instead he turns quickly and knocks loudly against the frosted glass door, before he changes his mind.

Bucky startles at the sound of knocking and glances away from the window he’d been staring out of, at the Wakandan landscapes. There’s a beautiful waterfall some distance from the Princess’s laboratory that he can see clearly through the window, and the treetops in the forest surrounding it, ripple softly in the evening breeze. Bucky clears his throat and swallows his fear, “Yeah, come on in.” He calls out loudly, hoping that his voice would carry through the seemingly soundproof door.

Bucky thinks it must be time for him to go under. He’s not ready, he knows it. But he also knows that this must be done. There are no other ways to get the nastiness out from his brain. He’s going to be a better man, the man he used to be. And he’s going to be worthy of Steve.

Bucky turns, and is pleasantly surprised to find Steve entering the laboratory. The blonde smiles and shuts the door behind him, “Almost time.”

Bucky sighs and nods, “I know.”

“Are you alright, Buck?”

“Honestly? No. I don’t think I’ll be alright until I’m free of HYDRA’s clutches. But I’m going to try, and I’m going to try my hardest to be alright.”

Steve’s face contorts into a frown and he walks forward, until he’s standing just a foot or two from Bucky. He reaches a hand out and places it on the metal stump that’s supposed to act as his shoulder. “I know you’re scared, Bucky, and I can’t tell you not to be— because to be honest, this whole thing is terrifying. But you don’t have to feel alone in this. I’m going to be here with you when you go under, and I swear on heaven and hell that I’ll be here when you wake up. And you will wake up soon, free of the monsters.”

Bucky shrugs and his shoulder slump dejectedly. “But how can you be so sure, Steve? I know you want to believe this will work, and believe me, I want that too. But I wouldn’t place any bets on it. This is brainwashing that spans a little over seventy years, Steve. What if it takes another seventy years to get it all out?”

“You’re underestimating Princess Shuri; she’s the best in the business, as far as I can tell. She’s a genius, Bucky— hell, she’s even head of the Wakandan Design Group, and she’s the creator of most of Wakanda’s modern technology.”

“You think she’s better than Stark’s son?”

“Yeah, I do believe she’s better than him, by a thousand miles, Buck. But it’s not about what I believe or don’t, it’s about the Princess genuinely being the smartest person I know. She has access to technology and materials that HYDRA couldn’t even _dream_ of getting their dirty hands on.”

Bucky smiles at that, visibly relaxes. “I hope she can succeed.”

“She will.”

“But, if—”

“No, I refuse to think about otherwise, Buck, and you should too.” Bucky nods, understanding where Steve’s coming from, and honestly, he agrees. “How are you feeling?”

Bucky inhales deeply then nods, “Scared, for the most part. I never did like cryo when _they_ put me under, and it just… it scares me. I’m worried the Soldier might jump out by himself.”

“You don’t have to do it then, Bucky,” Steve says, his expression tightening and he steps just a little closer. Bucky’s first instinct is to push Steve away and his second instinct is to back away. Then rationality kicks in before he acts on his instincts, and he relaxes immediately. Steve continues speaking; having not noticed the three different emotions Bucky went through in the span of a minute, “you don’t have to do anything you’re scared to do; anything that makes you think the Soldier might come out. We’ll figure something else out, I promise you.”

“We won’t, Steve, and you know it. I need to do this. Not just for you and me, but for everyone else. The Winter Soldier is a menace; he’s uncontrollable, especially by me. Zemo almost had me kill you, Romanoff _and_ Wilson— the first three people in the world who want to see me as a free man. I can’t go through that again, ‘cause I’m afraid he might succeed this time.”

Steve’s frown deepens by a margin, and his head slowly begins to nod. He understood where Bucky was coming from. “I understand, Buck. I know why you want to do this, and I agree, but—” and he abruptly cut himself off, eyes widening.

It’s Bucky’s turn to frown, though he does it very lightly. “What? What were you gonna say?”

Steve glances at Bucky and there is something in his expression, in those silver pools of his eyes that makes all of Steve’s walls crumble down like sandcastles. He can see the ghost of the love and adoration in Bucky’s eyes that he always saw mirrored in the eyes of the man he loved, and the man who loved him back— all those years ago, in their little apartment in 1930’s Brooklyn.

“I’m afraid of losing you… again.” Steve blurts out, his voice quivering.

Bucky’s expression drastically changes from love and adoration to shock and awe. He looks at Steve, blinking stupidly, then down at the clean, shiny floor. His foot taps unconsciously and then he glances back at Steve. “I heard you on the phone, Steve.”

Steve blanches. He feels like blood run cold and his face drops, his jaw slackens. He’s staring at Bucky and he knows he looks stupid, but he can’t help it. He’s always known talking about his feelings was a terrible idea, but now that Bucky’s heard him, Steve is almost certain he’s not going to want anything to do with him anymore. He tries to swallow but his mouth feels like a cotton ball, he tries to speak but his voice doesn’t get with the program so he’s left opening and closing his mouth like an idiot.

But Bucky saves him the time and asks, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Huh?” Steve manages to ask, and he wants to hit himself because he sounds so dumb. Actually, he sounds exactly like the way he did when Bucky told him that he loved him, back in 1934.

Bucky looks up at him and his expression is clear. “You should’ve told me, ‘cause I was kicking myself stupid wondering why I felt so strongly about you. In Bucharest, I spent most of my time remembering, or trying to, at least— and when I wasn’t doing that, I was always wondering why that single line from you shattered the Soldier’s resolute.”

Steve blinks at him in a dazed manner. He still hasn’t been able to find his voice, let alone actually speak words to form a reply. On the other hand, he’s happy to let Bucky do all the talking, because not only is it easier to listen, it’s also the most Bucky’s talked since… in a sickening way, Steve realizes that it’s probably the first time Bucky’s talking about himself and about his feelings in seventy-something years. So Steve settles for swallowing the cotton in his mouth and nods for Bucky to continue.

And Bucky doesn’t need to be told twice, he takes a cautious step forward and begins speaking again, “You said, ‘_I’m with you to the end of the line_’, and I had this flash of a thinner version of you, sitting in a small, dark room, saying those exact words and then saying you loved me. Was that a memory?”

Steve chokes when he tries to speak, and he’s surprised to find there are tears gathered in his eyes. He clears his throat and ducks his head. When he nods, the tears spill down his cheek, and he’s about to wipe them away but the press of soft, warm fingers against his cold cheek beat him to it. Steve slowly looks back up at Bucky, who wipes the remaining of his tears away with the pads of his fingers, so Steve nods again, “That was three days after my mother died, Buck. You refused to go anywhere for the first few weeks, you’d stay beside me the whole day, and we wouldn’t leave my apartment. Your Ma and sister brought us food sometimes, other times we managed.”

Bucky’s face changes instantly. His eyes widen and his mouth drops open. “Steve, I had— did I have a sister?”

More tears gather in Steve’s eyes and this time, he’s not afraid to let them rapidly fall as he vigorously nods again, “Yeah, Buck, you had a sister, the most beautiful girl in all of Brooklyn. Her name’s Rebecca, you called her Becca, and I called her Ruby. She hated men, until she married one named Thomas Proctor in… 1953, I think. She’s ninety-three years old and she lives in Indiana… one of her sons is named James, after you. I went to see her a few months ago.”

Bucky’s crying at this point and Steve doesn’t know if they are happy tears or sad tears, but he’s too afraid to ask. Then Bucky speaks, “She’s alive… can I— can we— after—?”

“We can go see her after you come out of cryo, Buck, I promise; we’ll go whenever you want.” Steve says quickly, his instincts kicking in. It had always been like that; Steve used to always know what Bucky was going to say— and some things just never change.

Bucky nods, takes his hand away from Steve’s face and wipes at his own eyes. Then he clears his throat, “Steve?”

“Yeah?”

“Please tell me with all honesty; were we lovers back then?”

For a solid minute, Steve considers how to answer that. Then he decides to just tell him the truth, because he deserves it. “All honesty, huh? Well, then I don’t know what we were— you _refused_ to label us, you said it limited what we had, and you couldn’t bear that. We never went out on dates for obvious reasons, and we never had a title. But we lived together, we slept together, we did everything together, Buck. But what I do know is that you loved me completely, and I love you right back, just the same.”

Steve doesn’t realize what he’s said until Bucky smiles to himself and nods, and says, “Love. Present tense. You didn’t use past tense.”

Steve vaguely wonders if his Ma—God rest her soul—dropped him on his head a lot as a child— surely that must be the reason why he’s so stupid sometimes. “I… it wasn’t a mistake.”

And that’s all it takes; Bucky’s eyes light up and his smile deepens, his eyes crinkle at the corners, and Steve thinks that it’s the most beautiful thing in the world— he’s always thought that. He missed Bucky’s smile.

“I missed your smile, Buck.” Steve tells him honestly, reaches a hand slowly upward and rests it against Bucky’s cheek, and he’s met with pleasant surprise when Bucky doesn’t move, doesn’t so much as flinch— only smiles wider.

“I missed your stupid face.” Bucky says, as if on instinct, and his expression indicates that he’s also surprised by what he just said. “Did I say that a lot?”

“Every time we were apart for a while. When I’d be sick and couldn’t go to school, you’d come right over at the end of the day with my homework and say that. You always said that.”

“I guess some things just don’t change.”

“Good.” Steve says, nodding and feeling the muscles in his cheek ache because he’s smiling so wide. It’s the first time he’s smiled this much ever since he came out of the ice.

“Hey, Steve?”

“Hmmm?”

“If you don’t kiss me right now, metal arm or not, I _will_ punch you in the mouth.”

Steve laughs, completely caught off guard and Bucky uses his only hand to pull Steve’s face close to his and stops, just shy of actually kissing him. One look at the silvers of Bucky’s eyes, and Steve’s laughter dies down immediately. He reaches his other hand up to Bucky’s face, as well, and slowly pulls his face closer to his own until their lips finally press flushed against one another, and Bucky all but melts in Steve’s arms— and Steve’s ready for it, so he wraps both arms around Bucky’s shoulders, lets him sink into his own body, and make a home out of it.

The kiss is short and chaste, and when Bucky pulls away, he turns his head and rests it sideways against Steve’s the top of shoulder. Steve tightens his grip around Bucky and lets himself relax as he holds his entire world in his embrace.

“Steve, please promise me something.”

“Anything you want.”

“You’ll be here when I wake up… ‘cause I don’t trust myself to wake up as myself, and not the Soldier.”

“I swear to you, Buck, I’ll be here.” Steve tells him firmly, and he knows he’ll keep promise. If he had to move heaven and raise hell in order to do it, he would without a moment’s hesitation. Bucky nods and tries to bury himself deeper into Steve’s chest, his arm tightening around Steve’s waist.

There’s a loud knock on the door behind them, and Steve turns his wrist to look at his watch, which reads 7:05 p.m. and sighs. The door opens without either one having uttered a word, and Shuri marches in with her small army of technicians and other labcoats.

She glances around the room and stops dead in her tracks when she sees the two men, “Oh God, so sorry! I didn’t realize I was interrupting— I’ll come back later.” She turns back around and motions or her followers to leave the room.

“No, wait!” Bucky exclaims, his face still hidden in the crook of Steve’s neck and Shuri stops trying to leave and looks in his direction with a curious expression on her face. Bucky inhales deeply and nods, seemingly to himself, before he lifts his head of Steve’s shoulder, effectively breaking their embrace. His eyes find Steve’s face and he nods, and smiles a little, then he turns towards Shuri and smiles again, “Hello.”

“Hi!” Shuri replies, smiling widely at the two, and with a single motion; the labcoats begin working quickly around the lab, setting up equipments that Steve hasn’t even seen before, let alone know the names of. “So, how are we feeling about this?”

When Steve, Bucky, and Sam had arrived in Wakanda alongside T’Challa, the Princess was a little annoyed. Apparently, she didn’t enjoy her brother bringing her “broken white boys” to fix. But it took her half an hour, and after that, she warmed up immediately to Sam, Steve and Bucky; which was more than Steve could have said about the very strict General Okoye— she exuded pure, hard-earned authority, it seemed to leak out of her very pores, and the three outsiders immediately recognized it and respected her for it. She was a badass in every sense of the word, and Steve realized it within a few hours of meeting her. He hoped they could be friends someday down the line.

“We’re very scared,” Bucky replies, walking towards Shuri, and Steve immediately follows, close behind. “But we’re also ready for this. When am I going under?”

“Now seems a good time as any. Does now work for you?” Shuri asks, taking a modern-looking tablet from one of the technicians and tapping away rapidly at it. “Hm, Azari from downstairs says the pod’s completely ready.”

“Who is Azari from downstairs?” Steve asks.

Shuri looks up and smirks, “He’s my go-to tech guy. He builds my things when I’m busy doing other things— like perfecting the bio-scanners for you.”

“Bio-what?” Steve and Bucky ask simultaneously and Shuri stops tapping on her tablet for the moment.

She smiles at them, “Forgive me; I forget you two are geriatrics.” Steve laughs and Bucky’s smile becomes more genuine. Shuri continues, “Bio-scanners are these little machines I built a few days ago— when my brother told me about you, and they are what will get all the brainwashing done without damaging your already-fragile mind.”

“Brainwashing done? You mean, you’re brainwashing him again?” Steve asks, his tone ringing with alarm and he steps closer to Bucky.

Shuri turns back to tapping at her tablet, “Think of it as reverse brainwashing, Captain. I can’t get everything out from Sergeant Barnes’s brain, so I’m going to have to coat it with something— so, if used, the trigger words will remind you of a video of kittens playing with yarn, instead of turning you into a killing machine.”

“But, that’s not very stable… is it?”

“Oh no, believe me, it’s very stable. I never do anything unless I’m certain it’s going to stick… and trust me when I say this, Captain, no harm will come to your boyfriend. And the Winter Soldier will be long gone by the time I’m done.”

Steve and Bucky don’t even get a chance to say anything, as the door of the laboratory opens again, and this time, Prince T’Challa walks in, with Okoye and Sam Wilson in tow. Okoye comes to a halt just inside the room; while Sam and T’Challa walk all the way into the room and towards the three of them. Bucky goes to bow but then remembers that T’Challa doesn’t like that, so he straightens back up and catches Sam smirking at him.

“Are we prepared for the Sergeant’s recovery, Shuri?” T’Challa asks, his voice ringing loud and clear over the mostly silent room.

Shuri, who still hasn’t finished tapping away at her tablet, nods. “Mhmm.”

“Is that from Stark Industries?” Sam asks, glancing down at Shuri’s pearly white tablet.

The Princess looks up with narrowed eyes and a grimace, “Oh God, no. I made this myself… just like I’ve made every other piece of technology in this Kingdom… and some beyond.”

T’Challa smiles at his sister and pride drips from his expression. Shuri turns back to her tablet, and Sam and T’Challa turn towards Bucky who has now found seating on an examining table. “Are you alright, Sergeant? Would you like something?”

Bucky looks startled as he looks up at T’Challa, then shakes his head, “No, thank you, your Highness. You’ve already been way too kind.”

“Ah, it’s the least I can do after trying to murder on more than one occasion.” T’Challa replies, shrugging, then adds, “And I’ve told you, do not call me your highness.”

“My apologies, your high— I mean, T’Challa.” Bucky replies, looking just a little dazed.

“You sure you wanna do this, man?” Sam asks from next to Steve.

“Unless you want me ripping your wing off again— yes Sam, I’m very sure.” Bucky replies, a shit-eating grin on his face.

Sam narrows his eyes and then shrug, “Alright, more buddy time for me and Steve then.”

Bucky raises an eyebrow, and Sam laughs loudly, which in turn makes Bucky smile. And Steve’s heart grows about three sizes, because Bucky’s sitting here in front of him, happy, with people around him who care for him, who will die to protect him, and for that, he’s eternally grateful.

Then Bucky’s looking at him, with a smile on his face, and love in his eyes, and Steve reaches a hand out, tucks a stray strand of hair behind Bucky’s ear and smiles widely. His eyes brim with tears, but he doesn’t let them fall— they’re not sad tears, they’re happy tears. Because Bucky’s alright, and he’s getting the help he deserves. And if Bucky’s alright, then Steve’s alright too.

And Steve knows that he will continue to be alright, so long as he has Bucky by his side.

**Author's Note:**

> Well, that's it. That's how I imagine things must have gone down between them before the whole mess of Infinity War (FUCK Endgame).  
I don't know if this is what everyone else imagined, but this is what I imagined up in my head. And tbh, this looked way better when it was in my noggin.  
Anyhoo, this is my brainchild, and I'm saying it's good enough for me. Lemme know what you guys think of it, yeah?  
As always; kudos, comments and constructive criticism is so welcome. You guys have no idea how much your comments mean to us (fanfiction writers), even if it's something very small like, "Hey, good job! Go eat a cookie! You earned it!" or, "Yeah, it's alright, I'd rate it one cookie out of five." or, "My goodness, shut your account! You don't deserve to write!" or, "You suck and don't even deserve crumbs, let alone a whole cookie."  
In case you can't tell, I'm really craving chocolate chip cookies right now.  
Anyways, I'll probably edit the shit out of this later.  
See ya! x


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